


The Sound of Silence

by MayavanavihariniHarini



Category: Hindu Religions & Lore, Mahabharata - Vyasa
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-12-18 09:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18246905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayavanavihariniHarini/pseuds/MayavanavihariniHarini
Summary: Daughters are worth a hundred sons-- literally--and so much more.Post-Kurukshetra war. Missing scene. Oneshot.





	The Sound of Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toujours_nigel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toujours_nigel/gifts).



Yes, Gandhari has learnt it the hard way.

The loss of sight-- even if it is voluntary-- can sharpen the other senses in unprecedented ways, and she has become well-accustomed to the particular sounds she associates with certain people.

(Also smells and feels... but let's save that rant for another day).

And now even THAT association is gone (because the widows must not indulge in jewellery). As if the death of ALL her sons wasn't enough.

Take Duhshala, for example, with her bangles clanging rather noisily above her head every time she adjusts-- sorry, adjusted-- her high bun (Read: ALL THE TIME. Until now).

The scenario used to be different for Bhanumati, though.

Bhanu, a minimalist in the matters of jewellery and cosmetics, had no patience with bangles per se. She considered them the ultimate obstacle to her daily wrestling practice and refused to wear more than one pair of _kankanas._ Her feet, however, sang constantly of her favourite set of diamond-studded gold anklets that her beloved husband had gifted her on their wedding night.

Ah, _Duryodhana._

The Kuru matriarch sighs at the thought of her firstborn-- no, Duhshala's brother, Bhanumati's husband.

Duryodhana and Duhshasana-- the two men she had mentally disowned on the day of the ill-fated dice game-- deserved to die, full stop... but her daughters are the sole reason she mourns their deaths along with the others.

Gandhari recalls how she hadn't been terribly pleased with the boon of a hundred sons.

 _Why not a hundred daughters? I would have preferred them any day,_ she would sulk to herself night after night.

Shiva had appeared in a dream, and reassured her that a day would come when a hundred daughters would replace the hundred sons born to her.

Oh, how she had longed for that day!

How she had PRAYED for that day, especially following the disgraceful events at the fateful Dyuta Sabha!

It took age-- and wisdom-- to realise the significance of that reassurance... and today, she nearly laughs at her own folly.

While Gandhari has always accepted the inevitable with inimitable dignity and utmost grace, THIS is not what she wanted. THIS is not what she was prepared for.

But then, destiny has this weird habit of fulfilling all your wishes, albeit in a twisted way. Had she not asked for a hundred daughters?

The Kaurava wives had always viewed their mother-in-law with utmost reverence-- some had been practically afraid of her-- and were seldom comfortable talking to her (with the notable exception of Bhanumati, who has consistently regarded her as her sole companion in moments of loneliness, especially when Duhshala is away in Sindhu). But today, having lost their husbands, sons, brothers, nephews and fathers in the terrible war, who else can they take refuge in?

Gandhari isn't used to their footsteps yet... but she does identify the 'regal female' gait in no time-- slow, majestic, determined footsteps that can be attributed only to a princess-- and quietly offers them her own shoulder to cry upon.

She cannot afford to let her tears flow. Certainly not now, when her daughters need her the most.

 

**Author's Note:**

> @toujours_nigel: *inhales* I was so nervous to have someone as iconic as you as my assigned recipient! I am not sure if this fits what you wanted, but I tried.


End file.
